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2.1: Knights Arrive in City
The first session of The Brazen Helm. Played in January 2017. The Party * Eadmund, Human Magus * Sheng Háldott, Human Inquisitor * Wilhelm Widalis, Gnome Somaturge Journal Due for Dewport 2nd of Oak Moon 1985 - Randall's Refuge, Runewall, Ceraris It's been a pretty cold winter: even the generally warm Empire of Ceraris has a layer of snow on the ground. The three Knights only get a short break to recover from New Year's before each of them is summoned to a special meeting with Igrayn Songblood, the leader of the Knights of the Brazen Helm. They've seen each other around the Brasshelm base, but never actually worked together before. Now they meet at the gates of Randall's Refuge, a massive walled estate near the edge of Runewall, the Cerarian capital. The gates stand wide open and a decorative brazen helm is nailed into the wall above them. Sheng hears heavy footsteps and turns around to see a human-shaped blob of dirt and mud, a brazen helm covering what serves as its head. He turns his gaze slightly upward to see Wilhelm the gnome sitting on the golem's shoulders. Eadmund walks up while Sheng's busy gawking at them. The three introduce themselves properly and agree to proceed into the Refuge. A large courtyard is flanked by buildings on three sides, each already a mansion in itself; at the far end stands the main hall, where Igrayn is supposedly waiting for them. As they step in, they see her standing at the top of a staircase: a tall and bulky half-orc woman, her grayish-green skin mottled with scars, with a wide smile on her face. There's another Knight in the room, chewing on an apple in the corner, but he leaves sheepishly when he realizes there's some kind of meeting going on. Igrayn, in her best saleswoman voice: ”Greetings! I hope the new year has begun pleasantly for you as well. In any case, I have great news for you: the Knights of the Brazen Helm have gotten their first real opportunity to widen their operation! A citizen appreciative of our cause has decided to donate us the premises and aid to found a base in another city.” Sheng: ”And let me guess, you want us to run this place?” Igrayn: ”Do you know why our iconic helm is one of brass?” Everyone: *sigh* Igrayn: ”Because despite its humble ingredients, well-polished brass can shine as bright as gold! It is a principle of ours to be as equal as possible and offer everyone the same chance to shine.” Eadmund: ”How exactly did you select us three for this?” Igrayn: ”We... had a raffle at the New Year's party here in the Refuge.” Sheng: ”And who picked out the winners?” Igrayn: ”I believe it was... Franklin? I hope you can imagine, we were all rather drunk at the time. But that doesn't matter! If you choose to accept this offer – a great opportunity, really – your transport will depart at dawn from the gates of the Refuge.” Wilhelm: ”Wait, hold on, what even is this other city? What are we supposed to do when we get there?” Igrayn: ”Oh, of course! Your destination is the proud city of Dewport, on the coast. You are supposed to meet an Edward... from the Red Dragonfly, apparently.” The three Knights only have a vague idea of where Dewport is even located. They briefly consider whether the ”Red Dragonfly” could be some kind of infernal cult looking for sacrifices, but eventually decide it sounds more like a bar of some sort. Sheng: ”And we don't even need to send any money back to Runewall?” Igrayn: ”No, you're expected to spend it on your own, for the best of the Knights.” Sheng: ”Then this sounds pretty good!” Igrayn: ”Well, I'm glad you all accept! We've already taken the liberty of sending some things ahead of time, so you just meet at the gates in the morning tomorrow! Prepare well!” They do just that, and when they meet again, there's a covered wagon waiting for them. The driver, a human man, waves out to them: ”Are y'all the Knights I was supposed to pick up?” Wilhelm: ”You see anyone else around?” Driver: ”Hey, it'd be pretty awkward if I drove off with you and the others just happened to be late or something. Either way, climb in back and we'll be off, I suppose. We have a three-day drive ahead of us. Better wrap up warm!” Eadmund: ”Before that, mind if I ask your name?” The driver seems confused at first, and then almost moved to tears: ”M-my name is Carlos. Geez, it's been a while since anyone asked me that... they all just take me for granted, y'know? 'Hey, drive me to Runewall!' 'Hey, pick up those guys!' I mean, like –” Eadmund: ”Yeah, they sure do.” Carlos: ”...” Eadmund: ”...” Eadmund climbs in back, and so do the others... even the golem, which makes the wagon bounce and creak rather worryingly. Carlos: ”Oi, what are you doing back there!? Mind leaving the big guy out?” The golem ends up just walking next to the wagon the whole way. Carlos makes them some simple meals and plays his harmonica when they make camp for the night. Three days later they arrive in Breakpool, a small coastal town where they're transferring to a ship. Carlos: ”Well, I'll be off then. Have a nice rest of the trip!” Eadmund: ”Hey, one last thing! Take this gold piece as a tip. For the harmonica and everything.” Carlos, once again almost moved to tears, drives off towards more adventures and ungrateful customers. The Knights board the small trade ship Janina. On the way they ask the sailors if they know about the Red Dragonfly, but despite stopping in Dewport pretty often, the only watering hole they really visit is the Fireside Tavern near the docks. After four days, on a clear morning, the Knights finally catch their first glimpse of Dewport: between a wide river mouth and a harbor on the seashore rise high cliffs and hills, crowned by a walled castle on the tallest summit. Behind and around the castle they see the smoke rising from thousands of chimneys as the city sprawls over the hills and along the river. As the Janina hastily unloads its cargo, the Knights wander off and decide to visit this Fireside place for further clues. Wilhelm conjures a new golem from the roadside mud and starts riding around again. Getting Reddy Sheng slams the doors open: ”I have arrived!” It's still before noon, so the tavern is pretty much empty albeit still cozy. The eponymous fire pit in the middle of the main room only has small cinders burning in it, and the only people in sight are two old men playing cards at a side table. The Knights walk up to the counter and try calling out to the bartender: Eadmund: ”Anyone here?” Sheng: ”We're looking for the Red Dragonfly!” A man appears from the curtained back room: ”Why, welcome to the Fireside! But, uh, may I ask why you can't just drink here instead?” Sheng: ”We're looking for a certain Edward, and we're supposed to meet him there.” Bartender: ”Edward? What's he done this time?” Sheng: ”What do you mean, 'this time'?” Bartender: ”Uh... never mind. But anyway, you know the Flower Quarter?” Wilhelm: ”The red light district?” Bartender: ”N-no, just the city center. I think the Red Dragonfly is past the temple and to the north of the main boulevard. You should find it just fine.” Sheng: ”Alright, thanks! But first, I'll have that drink you were talking about. I've been on a ship for days! Your cheapest stuff, please!” Eadmund: ”It's still morning and there was definitely booze on board.” Sheng: ”You know, us humans need to ground ourselves after spending time at sea.” Wilhelm and Eadmund (who is very much a human himself) roll their eyes and walk outside. The bartender hands Sheng a mug of Dewport Ale, a vaguely booze-like brown liquid, which he decides to down in one chug. He keeps a poker face despite the horrible taste, slams some copper pieces on the counter and leaves quietly. The Knights walk up the main boulevard towards the city's hilly center. They pass a large park with a tall temple towering over the trees. Nobody can tell at a glance whose temple it is, but Sheng prattles some ”interesting trivia” about dragons liking to perch on roofs just like that (which Eadmund totally buys for some reason). After some asking around, they find a rather modest-looking tavern. There's a sign with a bright red dragonfly painted on it and a brass helm nailed over the door. Sheng slams the doors open: ”I have arrived!” In doing so, he knocks over a short man with a thick red beard who was standing behind the door. A little dazed, he laughs: ”So ya have! I've been waiting for ya! The name's Ed Steady, but ya can just call me Reddy!” With a wink, he makes finger guns crossbows and stands up. ”Welcome to the Red Dragonfly! I got it all prettied up just for ya!” What the Knights see is a pretty simple hall with a counter, fireplace and four tables. There are two doors into the back and a staircase leading up. Mediocre at best. A tiny tumbleweed of dust rolls across the room. Reddy: ”And what are yer names, then?” ”Sheng Háldott!” ”Wilhelm Widalis.” ”Eadmund. Just... Eadmund. With an 'a'.” Sheng: ”So... you're Edward? The guy we were supposed to meet?” Reddy: ”Right! As I said in the message, I'm donating a workspace to ya. So the Knights can operate in Dewport, y'know?” Sheng: ”Is that seriously everything? What do you gain from this?” Reddy: ”Well, ehm... the Dragonfly isn't doing so great, ya know? Don't get that many customers these days, so I was hoping you'd attract 'em... maybe do some good while you're at it.” Sheng: ”Is there really nothing less... conspicuous?” Reddy: ”The back room of a tavern no one visits ain't inconspicuous enough for ya?” Sheng: ”Oh, don't take it like that! Pour me a drink, would you? The second cheapest you've got!” Reddy: ”I suppose that'd be Dewport Brew, then.” Sheng: ”Uh...” Eadmund walks over to the smoldering fireplace and lights it with a magical spark. ”You really are trying to get plastered by noon, aren't you? So where are we supposed to work?” Reddy shows them the storage room, where he has cleared a bit of space to set up a table and some empty containers for the Knights to use. On the table, Reddy spreads open a large map of Dewport: the main city is about three miles across, though the sprawl extends beyond that. It is divided into seven areas, which Reddy describes briefly: * Flower Quarter: The main center of the city, where most of the middle class lives. Relatively safe and comfortable compared to the rest of the city, for ”honest businessmen such as himself” as Reddy puts it. Pretty much the only area the City Guard has any real control over, for whatever it's worth. *Castle Quarter: Surrounded by stone walls and inhabited by the upper class. Count Stonegard's castle itself has an additional set of walls. *Port Quarter: The harbor, obviously. Very busy, though not the biggest port in the region by a long shot. *Galleon Quarter: A large walled base for the Cerarian Navy. Rather isolated, for the most part. *Smoke Quarter: An artisan's district, basically, where most of the main forges and other workshops are located. *River Quarter: Where most of the working class lives. Almost all inland traffic in and out of the city passes through here, including smaller ships coming down the River Barca. *Mud Quarter: ”How should I put it...” ”A slum?” ”A slum.” The Hunley Incident As Reddy is explaining the map and the city's sorry state, they hear a loud noise from the front door and rush out of the storage room. A young woman with dark braided hair and a servant's dress has rushed inside, looking clearly exhausted. ”I-is this the Red Dragonfly?” Reddy gets behind the counter: ”Oh, a real customer! How can I help ya?” ”M-my name's Amanda. I'm looking for the Brasshelms. I saw a poster at the market.” Reddy: ”Right, I took those there yesterday.” Sheng: ”Seriously...?” Amanda: ”In any case, my Master has some very important job for them. They can help, right?” Sheng: ”Yes, of course, but you must be thirsty! Reddy, bring out your fifth cheapest stuff for our beautiful client!” Eadmund: ”Seriously...?” Reddy brings out a bottle of gnomish wine and pours it into a glass, which Amanda cups awkwardly in both hands. ”I suppose it's alright, if you don't mind the earthy aftertaste... I don't really drink that much, especially in the mornings... No, wait, we really should get going now! I can explain more on the way, my Master's estate is about six miles north of the city.” Reddy enthusiastically promises to get some tea ready for their return. Amanda has a horse, but she walks with the others until her feet start to hurt. Sheng lays it on pretty thick. Sheng: ”So, fair lady, who is this Master of yours?” Amanda: ”His name is Hunley. He raises valuable animals for sale, like this horse here. I really shouldn't talk too much, I just need to get you there...” Wilhelm: ”Not suspicious at all.” Sheng: ”My lady, surely you understand, whatever you can tell us is very helpful. If he has a job for us, we should prepare as well as we can. I promise we will protect you from whatever may happen.” Eadmund and Wilhelm roll their eyes in unison pretty much whenever Sheng speaks to Amanda. The golem would if it could. After a bit more persuasion, Amanda finally caves. She says Hunley has some special projects on the side, raising some more... exotic beasts... and two days ago one of them got away. She doesn't even know what it was, but it bit off another servant's head in the process. Hunley immediately sent her to get help from the city, but she had no idea where to look and was too scared to return empty-handed. Sheng: ”So, what kind of monster was it? Dragon, griffin, manticore...?” Wilhelm: "Vampire horse?" Amanda: ”You really can't tell him, please! Just pretend you don't know anything!” The city sprawl thins out and ends after a couple of miles, leaving only some scattered houses here and there. The four take a side road, which takes them to another side road, and eventually they see Hunley's rustic manor peeking from between the trees. Some of them note the conspicuous lack of birds or any other animals in the area. As they reach the porch, Sheng tries to slam open the doors, only to find that they won't budge. Amanda pulls out a key with a little smirk on her face. She unlocks the door, and Sheng slams open the doors: ”I have arrived!” The racket frightens a nearby servant, who says he'll get Master Hunley, but hardly has time to move before someone comes stomping down the stairs: a graying man, either balding or pulling his hair out. Probably both. ”And who are you then?” he asks in hysterics, before noticing Amanda behind them. ”So you finally brought someone!? About time! I hope it's not too late already! So who are you supposed to be?” Sheng: ”We are the Brasshelms, a knightly order from a far-off continent –” Eadmund: ”The capital. Of this very country.” Sheng: ”Then why would we take a ship? In either case, we're here to solve whatever problem you have, as soon as you just explain it to us.” Hunley: ”I-I suppose I don't have much choice, do I? Follow me then!” As he leads them into the back, he gives meaningful glances to Wilhelm's golem and Amanda. The latter sighs and brings out a dustpan, trying to clean up the dirt trailing behind the golem. Hunley just takes them into the back hall for some privacy. Hunley: ”So what do you know so far?” Sheng: ”Nothing, except that your name is Hunley and Amanda here fetched us to fix a problem of yours.” Hunley: ”Right... So, I raise animals and sell them, some for work and some for leisure. Rich, distinguishing folks in particular are ready to pay a lot for exotic beasts. However, one of my most valuable products ran off two days ago.” Sheng: ”And what exactly was this 'product'?” Hunley: ”A... manticore.” Sheng barely resists the urge to gloat about how he ”freaking called it”. He can't really recall what a manticore is, though, unlike Eadmund, who's able to accurately describe one from personal experience. Hunley: ”So, I was in the process of refining a tamer breed of manticore with fewer superfluous spikes, easier to ride on.” Eadmund: ”Why would anyone want to ride a manticore?” Hunley looks at him like he just asked the stupidest thing ever. ”Who wouldn't want to ride a massive winged lionbeast that can fling spikes from its tail?” Sheng: ”We're totally on the same page, you and I. But how did it get away in the first place?” Hunley: ”I swear, this is the first time this has ever happened. It was supposed to be sedated, but while being moved from one enclosure to another, it suddenly killed its handler and flew off. I've had my servants circling the forests since then, watching the skies, and they swear it hasn't left the area, but I obviously can't send them after it.” Eadmund: ”You want him back alive?” Hunley: ”''Absolutely''. That animal is extremely valuable. I'll give you some nets, and these little balls here. They have the sedative we issued before, but it's the best we have, so...” Sheng: ”Do they work as bait or anything?” Hunley: ”Heavens, no. You'll have to physically feed them to it.” With little further instruction, he basically pushes them out of the back door and sends them into the forest, only yelling out a brief warning: ”Its claws have been cut, so that's good, but that doesn't mean it's not dangerous!” Manticore Manhandlin' The Knights don't need to go far into the snowy woods before finding tracks on the ground. They're clearly not the manticore's, though: there's several human-sized tracks crisscrossing the area but ultimately heading in the same direction. The group considers several scenarios, but there's no signs of a struggle, so it doesn't look like the manticore and these other people have met each other yet. Sheng, a practiced tracker, has little trouble following them, while the others walk behind him. With his eyes on the ground, Sheng notices he's about to step into a snow-covered bear trap. Raising his view, he notices a dead deer surrounded by a pool of blood, very conspicuously lying in the middle of a clearing. There's no immediate sign of what killed the deer, so everyone assumes it wasn't the manticore. Looking around, they notice a person skulking in the bushes by the clearing, trying to multitask between watching the sky, the deer and now the Knights. Sheng draws his bow and contemplates shooting first. Eadmund stands up straight and gives the figure a friendly wave. It flinches and hides behind a tree, only to slowly walk out a moment later. It's a young man, pointing a loaded crossbow at them with shaking hands. Hunter: ”Bugger off, we're hunting here!” Sheng: ”What are you hunting for? The manticore?” Hunter: ”Yeah, Uncle said there was good money in it!” Sheng: ”Well, problem is, we're supposed to bring the animal back alive.” Hunter: ”That's obviously not going to happen! You best leave, or I'll shoot!” Sheng: ”What's your name?” Hunter: ”Nuh-uh, what's yours?” An awkward silence. Sheng: ”You want to see who's the better marksman?” Hunter: ”...Alright Stephen, you come out too.” Another young man emerges on top of the 10-foot ledge to the left of the clearing, holding a bow. ”Dammit Amadeus, you didn't need to blow my cover.” Sheng: ”Is that deer supposed to be bait?” Amadeus: ”Um... duh?” Sheng: ”You do know manticores are herbivores, right?” Amadeus: ”...Uncle didn't even mention what they look like, did he, Stephen?” Sheng: ”This obviously isn't going to work, that thing is very dangerous and you're just going to get yourselves killed. Are you two experienced hunters?” Amadeus: ”Obviously, don't I look like it?” Sheng: ”We could have use for you. We're founding an organization... a sect of sorts in Dewport, and we'd be happy to have any recruits we can find. We can provide food, equipment, training...” Despite the situation, Amadeus actually seems a bit curious. He starts cautiously approaching Sheng. ”A sect? That sounds kinda spooky. The other stuff, though...” Stephen isn't nearly as convinced: ”Amadeus, for gods' sake...” The Knights see movement behind the treetops. Out of nowhere, two large spines shoot through the air and hit Stephen in the back. He falls to the ground, yelling out in pain and surprise. A snow-white manticore flies up above the trees and heads straight towards the clearing, diving in to attack. Sheng's quick nerveskitter gives Eadmund enough of a boost for him to cast enlarge person on himself and quickly hop in front of the other Knights, readying his jet-black scimitar. The manticore decides to change direction, circling around and landing over the prone Stephen. Sheng shouts a quick warning, but it's only enough to let Stephen roll around and get a good look at the manticore before it bites off most of his face and leaves him bleeding on the ground. With a furious scream, Amadeus lets loose a crossbow bolt that misses the manticore by about a mile. Wilhelm dismounts his golem and flings a clump of clinging earth at the manticore, sticking to its wings and slowing its movements – since there's snow on the ground, he uses the dirt in his handy haversack – and orders his golem to move in for the attack. Eadmund takes this opportunity to clamber onto the ledge – not difficult, as he's currently 12 feet tall himself – and bravely latch onto the manticore, but is left holding only a patch of the beast's fur as it sinks its jagged teeth into his arm and flies off. However, its muddied wing-beats are sluggish enough for Sheng to follow it with some help from expeditious retreat, clearing the ledge in a single leap, and yell out a magical command, ordering it to very simply ”Drop!” The manticore lands in the woods some distance away, Sheng and Eadmund giving chase. Meanwhile, Wilhelm's golem brings Stephen's limp body down from the ledge (gently, by golem standards). He is indeed still alive, though just barely, and seems to cough up some blood when Wilhelm turns his head to the side. With magical help he might even have his pretty face back. After determining that Stephen should survive, probably, maybe, Wilhelm quite matter-of-factly tells the panicked Amadeus to watch his friend and joins the chase on his golem's shoulders. Sheng finds the manticore in another clearing, twitching and growling as the magic compels it to lie still on its stomach. Those precious few seconds allow him to successfully throw a net on the beast, even though he fumbles around with it and has to untangle it from another that he'd shoved in the same bag. An almost comical cloud of swirling netting, snow and mud is born as the enlarged Eadmund hops into the fray and does his best to grapple with the manticore. He may be big and strong, but this is quite literally his first rodeo, and he can't seem to get a firm grip on the slippery bastard. The manticore nearly breaks free at one point, escaping from Eadmund and almost the net as well, only to be tackled to the ground by what looks like a golem-shaped cannonball charging in from the side. With three sedative-balls down its throat and a magical mudman attempting some kind of improvised leglock, the beast's body just decides to give up and fall to the ground unconscious. Sheng doesn't waste time bolting off towards the manor to fetch some help with the sleeping manticore, poking Stephen with his wand of lesser vigor as he passes by. He slams the doors open: ”I have arrived!” Hunley winces and really wishes people would stop bashing his things around. However, while Sheng's gone, three more hunters emerge from the woods near the manticore. One of them, a bearded older man, steps up and aims his crossbow. Uncle: ”Thanks an awful lot for taking care of the beastie for us, but we'll be handling it from here.” Eadmund: ”Sorry, we got here first.” Uncle: ”Whatcha gonna do about it?” Eadmund: ”Hah!” The man fires a bolt at the still-''enlarged'' Eadmund, but he knows to expect it and manages to dodge. Eadmund charges forth, enchanting his sword with frostbite and swinging the glowing blade at the shooter, who hops back and barely avoids the blade. The man quickly cranks his repeating crossbow and fires a second bolt, only to hit another tree in the chaos. The two other hunters retaliate, swiping at Eadmund with swords and spears, but he doesn't mind such (proportionately) small cuts. With one deft strike, he takes down the spearman and leaves him shivering on the ground as icy magic rushes into his body. The shooter is starting to panic and trying to crank his crossbow, but misjudges Eadmund's extended reach and takes a freezing slash across the face, going down for the count. That leaves just the third one for the golem to grab and suplex over its head, making an anti-climactic ”fwumph” as the hunter hits the soft snow but is knocked out nonetheless. Wilhelm returns to the ledge and shouts out to Amadeus, who's still watching over Stephen: ”How's your friend looking?” Amadeus: ”His, uh, blood is flowing. That's... good and bad, right?” Wilhelm: ”He looks much better already. His face is mostly back.” Amadeus: ”Uh... have you run into my Uncle yet?” Wilhelm: ”Yeah, we've got three unconscious guys tied into a nice bundle up here. Tried to attack us and take the manticore. One has a beard, is that him?” Amadeus stands up and gives him a long, blank stare. With a quick ”Welp!” he dashes into the nearest thicket and disappears. Wilhelm doesn't bother going after him, instead ordering the golem to bring Stephen so they can tie him up with the others. After a nice leisurely chat with Amanda, Sheng returns with an ecstatic Hunley and a large cart pulled by three grunting servants. He sees the tied-up hunters and receives a brief explanation. The servants start trying to hoist the sleeping manticore onto the cart. Sheng: ”Any idea who these men might be?” Hunley: ”None whatsoever. Probably just some brigands from Sweetstone, that nearby village. I know there's always someone skulking around, waiting for a chance to nab a big prize...” Sheng: ”Are these your lands, officially?” Hunley: ”Yes, so what they're doing is doubly illegal!” Hunley says he'll have the hunters delivered to Sweetstone, where the local authorities can take care of them. He's too happy to worry about one getting away. He offers the Knights a pretty good reward of 3000 silver, which Sheng slowly haggles up to 3900 by referring to unexpected complications, reaffirmed confidentiality and future investments. Hunley gives up, telling the Knights to stop by if there's something he can help with, and promising to put in a good word. The manticore is worth far more anyway. First Contact Wilhelm: "Man, I actually had to get off the golem. My legs kinda hurt." (No, they don't.) Sheng: "Yeah, I know right! I almost got hit that one time!" (No, he didn't.) Sheng says she'll see Amanda later and the group walks back to Dewport. The sun has already set by the time they make it back to Reddy's place, where he's been waiting with anxious excitement. Sheng: ”Bring out your... seventh cheapest stuff, we're celebrating!” Reddy, counting with his fingers: ”Alright, Ufurcan cider coming up. I really should take a proper inventory...” They spend what must be several hours laughing over food and drinks. Wilhelm: ”Hey, how about that time Eadmund stumbled face-first into that snowbank?” Eadmund: ”Which time?” Wilhelm: ”The fourth, I think?” Reddy's laughter is interrupted by something and he freezes, staring out the window in silence. Wilhelm and Sheng follow his lead, though Eadmund is too focused on his tea to notice. The high window shows the roof of a fine, black carriage stopping in front of the house. There are footsteps and a massive orc in dark armor... doesn't pull a Sheng, opening the doors gently and allowing a smaller figure to enter, with another orc following after. Eadmund waves a friendly hello, only now noticing the others' grim looks. Standing in the Red Dragonfly is a male drow wrapped in a long cloak of dark purple silk. His long white hair and red left eye, typical for a drow, are outshadowed by his right eye, which seems to shine with a bright blue light; despite his otherwise relaxed demeanor, the Knights feel like that right eye is staring right through them. The man has a tremendous chilling presence, even more so than the 8-foot-tall orcs flanking him. With a smile on his face, the man knocks his ebony cane on the floor twice. Drow: ”Ah, Edward! It must have been years! How are the wife and kids?” Reddy: ”Ain't got any. Never did.” Drow: ”And whose fault is that?” He turns towards the Knights: ”But you three are new faces. It has come to my knowledge that today you helped a business associate of mine solve a serious and frankly very dangerous incident caused by his own negligence. You basically did me a favor as well, and I hope to see you Bronzeshields in the future as well.” Eadmund: ”We're, uh... we're the Brasshelms...” One of the orcs whispers in the drow's ear. ”Of course! The Brasshelms.” Sheng: ”Um, excuse me, but who exactly are you?” Drow: ”Oh! I'm terribly sorry. You may call me the Tailor. No need to introduce yourselves, I already know.” Wilhelm: ”Well that isn't creepy at all.” The Tailor: ”Either way, I'm sure this is the beginning of a long and bountiful cooperation. You're newcomers to Dewport, correct? If there's anything you need, just speak to me... though I'm sure my old friend Edward can help you as well.” With another two knocks of his cane, the Tailor and his orcs are gone as quickly as they came. Reddy shakes off his chill: ”Is there any more of that tea...?” Sheng: ”Reddy, just who was that?” Reddy, pouring himself a whiskey because Eadmund drank all the tea: ”The Tailor is the highest leader of the Silk Spider cartel, and basically the most influential person in Dewport.” Sheng's heard of the Silk Spiders before. They operate all over the Emperor's Bay, but he had no idea they were based in Dewport of all places. In addition to their ”legitimate” business in the spider silk trade, they basically run all sorts of organized crime. Wilhelm: ”Like what? Just murders, robberies...?” Sheng: ”Oh, you know it! And they make clothes, too!” Reddy: ”Damn good ones, if I may add.” Eadmund: ”You said he was the most influential person in town?” Reddy: ”Pretty much, yeah. I'd say Count Stonegard, but he's basically in the Tailor's back pocket, so... Everyone knows the Silk Spiders are serious criminals, and most probably wouldn't mind if they got what they deserved, but there are some who think the Tailor at least keeps the town running. I don't think they're entirely wrong, but...” Sheng: ”How long has the Tailor been here, then?” Reddy: ”Oh, I'm 36 and born in Dewport, but I'm pretty sure he's been here the whole time. From what I can hear, it was an even bigger mess before him... He even has a son, y'know? Older than me, but still just a kid... Elves are weird like that...” Sheng: ”More importantly, what exactly is your relation to him?” Reddy gets really defensive: ”Oh, I-I may have kinda worked for him, b-but it was just a difficult time some 10 years ago! And not anything that bad, either, just basic business stuff, y'see!” The Knights don't seem as concerned as he'd clearly expected. Wilhelm: "And he just let you go?" Reddy: ”Y-yeah, but I have no doubt that he always knew where I was. That's the point, as long as ya don't bother him too much, he shouldn't harm you. Probably.” They slowly start heading to bed. Reddy has five inn rooms upstairs, but the best two are reserved for actual customers (no offense), so the Knights can have the ones with little more than a bed and a small table. Reddy himself sleeps in the back of the first floor. Wilhelm agrees to leave his golem outside from now on, since Reddy already has enough cleaning to do. Eadmund casts the keep watch spell he'd prepared and spends the whole night tiredly leafing through his spellbook. As morning comes and the Knights clamber downstairs, they find Reddy wondering how he could conjure breakfast from a plain loaf of bread. When he notices them, though, he excitedly brings out some small flyers. Reddy: ”Some halflings were handing them out at the market. Pretty neat, huh?” The flyer seems to be titled ”Morning Dew”, issue 11th of Oak Moon 1985 (the current date), apparently a news journal of some sort. The main headline is ”Blue-Blooded Bloodsuckers?”, a conspiracy theory about vampires (including Count Stonegard himself) hiding in the Castle Quarter and feeding on the poor. Two other headlines include rumor-mongering about Guard Captain Colton's infidelity and a short report about the Count's daughter Eliza being crowned Flower Maiden for the third time in a row, having won the pageant on New Years' Eve. Reddy: ”Oh, it's always utter trash, and I'm not even sure who reads it, but look there at the bottom!” Knights Arrive in City The Knightly Order of the Brazen Helm, founded in the capital, has now acquired a base in Dewport as well. The Knights' leader Igrayn Songblood has familial connections to the Imperial House. The Brasshelms are based in the Red Dragonfly, Flower District. Reddy: ”Short and sweet, but it's a good start, right? ...Right?” __FORCETOC__ Category:Lorelm Category:Kampanjat Category:Content Category:English